All The World
by Andrea Foxx
Summary: I don't think of this on mission. But sometimes, I can't help but to look out at a place I leave, if I leave while it's in one piece at all, and think about the world.


I don't think of this on mission. But sometimes, I can't help but to look out at a place I leave, if I leave while it's in one piece at all, and think about the world.

The world's hard to describe.

I've heard people speak of worlds as separate, as single, as each their own. Colored marbles spinning through space. Each isolated. Each with their own history, written alone in the dark. Sometimes they use poetic words like those. Sometimes they use plainer words. But whatever words they use, they all mean the same thing.

I don't know if I ever had a real chance to see things that way. Or if I see everything that way, not just worlds, so that just referring to only planets like that seems wrong. It's hard to understand others, and maybe harder for me than for most. I don't know what frame of reference I have. Do I compare others to the Chozo? Or to myself? Or to my enemies?

And I avoid people for that reason. I don't want any of that weighing me down. I have my own fight, my own view, my own way I'm going to take. I don't want theirs, and I don't need theirs. Even if I did, I'd never be able to take it. I'd rather just be by myself.

That is who I am.

But that can only go so far. I live in this space. I have a ship I must fuel. I have repairs I must make. I have rations I need to eat. I need to live, and to do that, I need to be a part of something bigger than just myself. I need to be part of a world.

And the world they see for me is just that: _a_ world, unique and isolated. I am who they call when they are afraid. I am the one they ask for help when their pride runs out. I'm the last resort, their one invincible warrior. And for enough pay, I'll be that for them if they need me to be. Just like a planet to them, they look at me only when they need to land. I am an instance that exists only when they need to hire me. I don't turn when they're not there, I don't live when they don't need me alive for a task.

That's a lie, in my eyes. They can't leave and come back to me as if I was a planet they can visit and return to. I always exist in this galaxy, not just when they're looking.

I don't need that kind of short-sighted thinking in my life. It may work for them, but it's not for me.

In a way, I'm glad few of them can see past my visor and my job. They stay short-sighted when it comes to me, and I stay protected. It lets me stay safe, contained within myself. None of them are in my life, know about me at all other than that I will destroy whatever I need to. I really can be my own planet: by myself, alone in cold space. None of them will ever touch down. They can only fly by and marvel, and they won't ever disturb me.

If they ever understood, pitied me, I don't know what I would do. That's my private world and not for them. I'm all there is in it. There's nothing to say and nothing to cry about. They don't need to be there and I don't want them there to begin with.

But just because one planet is spinning out in space, it doesn't mean that it's the only one. Every second of every hour, all the planets in the universe are turning at once; all the stars are burning, and some of them are even dying. Time doesn't stop when I'm surfaceside. Every other rock in existence keeps moving in it's orbit, too.

So all of these worlds aren't really separate in the way they think they are. They all exist in the same space. Even so far away, there aren't worlds. There is the world.

The Chozo had an idea of oneness with this universe. I do, too. The world is everything. Every planet is in this world, and so is every star. People may each be cut off from each other, but nothing else is. Lives are snuffed out every second, but the world doesn't care. It will go on forever without us. Because we're all separated, we're tiny: Only blips on the radar and gone before we even matter in the world at all. The Chozo found a way to overcome themselves, but their time is over. Even the biggest stars in the world go out.

But I can understand their transcendence. The earliest I can remember, my world was taken for me. And then I got a new one, and that one was eventually taken, too. That was the end of having separate little worlds like the rest of everybody else. Both of those little worlds were the same; my parents and the Chozo, they both were part of one larger scheme. If I can't belong to either one of those planetary worlds, I belong to one bigger than them both.

I exist: one in all the world.


End file.
